


silence of the untranslated stars

by siojo



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Post-Recall
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-14 05:45:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14129361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siojo/pseuds/siojo
Summary: After his meeting with Genji in their family's home, Hanzo accepts a job to kill a man named Jesse McCree. However, he finds that trying to kill him is not as he expected.





	silence of the untranslated stars

**Author's Note:**

> and with the awesome art by ilikecheesemaybe, which you can find here---> https://archiveofourown.org/works/14143149

Jesse McCree is easy to spot from a distance, Hanzo tilts his head and hides himself more securely in the shadows of the building that he had taken refuge on top of as the crowds had gotten worse, his clothing attention grabbing even from a distance and even this deep in the south where people would consider to wear such items. The colors shout his presence even as he keeps his head down and his shoulders hunched in on himself, as if he's attempting to avoid attention.

 

The hat wouldn't look out of place alone, not when Hanzo has spotted no less than twelve others in the last three minutes, but the serape that floats behind him like a cape and the clatter of spurs as he walks are far too noticeable for even a city like this. Maybe if McCree had run away to another town, but not this one, this one is too urban even when it's this far south and close to the cowboy roots that McCree claims in his clothing.

 

Hanzo's eyebrow ticks up as McCree's hand moves once more to rest on his hat, uncertain if it was to influence his look or because there was a weapon hidden away in the band or something similar.

 

It reminds him unnervingly of the movies that Genji use to sneak into their home and force him to watch, changing the channel when their father or his men would come to check on them even though they had never been forbidden from watching the movies in the first place.

 

"Thank you, miss," Hanzo hears suddenly, a sharp crackle from the bug that he had been fortunate enough to slip into the folds of McCree's serape earlier that day. "I don't suppose that you would be able to direct me-" He adjusts the settings at the burst of static even though he already knows what hotel McCree is heading to for the next few nights.

 

He settles back into the shade when he has the conversation back into focus and lets McCree charm the young woman that he's talking to. It's not interesting or important when his goal is to make sure that McCree ends up dead in the end.

 

Hanzo glances over the crowd and easily picks out several others that must be here for the same reason that he is, for the same target no less. He doesn't know any of them. Not by sight or reputation, none of them are more than low-level bounty hunters, the kind that make Hanzo wonder if they're any better than the scum that they're taking in. But Hanzo's sure that McCree hasn't even noticed.

 

Except, Hanzo tilts his head as McCree catches a man's wrist and holds it in a too tight grip and flips the knife that he had stolen from him in his other hand, smirking, none of the attacks ever hit. Normally it was a twist of his step here or a moment of clumsy energy and a stumble that kept a bullet from taking his head, but this was blatant and, thinking back on it, no man was that lucky. No man would live to the age that McCree had reached, a single year younger than Hanzo, on pure luck and nothing else. There had to be some talent in there somewhere. Something that helped him to survive.

 

It hurts but there are parts of McCree that remind Hanzo of Genji, of the Genji from when they were young and still, he cuts that thought off ruthlessly before it can fester. The meeting with Genji in their family home still too fresh in his thoughts, still too painful to linger on for any length of time.

 

He readies his bow as he stands, taking aim and breathing before he lets go.

 

Hanzo growls, voice rising in anger when McCree's hat is pinned to wall but his arrow fails to hit the target. He hadn't even been aiming that high to begin with and his aim was something that Hanzo prided himself upon and now he had left the fool of a man with a clue to who he was. A clue that was as good as a fingerprint in their world.

 

"My hat!" McCree looks almost heartbroken when he says it, like he's lost something important. "That just ain't right, you go after a man fine, but after his hat? You poor thing, I don't think you've got another patch job in ya. You're just one big patch job now aren't ya?"

 

Hanzo hasn't heard someone that upset over an article of clothing, not since Genji was young and he spilt chocolate down the front of one of his favorite shirts and they couldn't get the stain out of it, not even when they had taken it to the cleaner that had specialized in cleaning their father's suits after deals gone wrong. Genji had been six and McCree is a fully grown man, it was almost embarrassing enough to make him forget that it was his arrow that had stuck that hat to the wall.

 

An arrow that Hanzo had been certain was aimed perfectly to cut McCree through the heart.

 

Storm Bow had never betrayed Hanzo so thoroughly before today, not even after he had first stolen it from the clan armory and run away from home with it after Genji's death.

 

"I suppose that I was lookin' to retire ya," McCree sighs twisting his hat in his hands as if studying the hole that Hanzo's arrow had left in it. "Suppose you were getting old now and you just don't match up with the serape these days darlin'. Not since I started wearing the red one and got rid of the black one."

 

Hanzo stops when McCree turns his attention to the arrow that took his hat from his head and pinned it to the wall, studying it closely, frown on his face, heart freezing in his chest.

 

"Never seen one of you before," He says softly, twirling Hanzo's arrow between his fingers. "You're very nice. Very nicely crafted and far better than I’ve seen on most bounty hunters. Must have a sight bit more money than my usual followers."

 

Hanzo wants to curse himself because that's more information than he would have thought McCree would have gotten from such a simple item. Most targets would see an arrow and think an archer, they don't see the quality of his equipment and notice that there's something more going on. McCree is either smarter than the file that the client gave him suggested or McCree has been playing stupid to give himself an advantage.

 

Hanzo is leaning more towards the latter.

 

He thinks that McCree is playing a game, playing up the stupid cowboy theme that he's taken and made his own, but Hanzo can't be sure since he's been having trouble pulling up any sort of information on McCree and has to rely on what little his informant can dig up or he can observe on his own. Which isn't enough, not when he's trying to kill this man.

 

There isn't enough information and it's driving Hanzo mad. How was he supposed to kill Jesse McCree if he couldn't even get enough information on the man to fill a thimble? There had been barely more than the thin paper folder that Hanzo had been given when he had accepted the assignment from the man that had hired him. Nothing concrete.

 

"Gonna have to call in some favors," McCree sighs, still spinning Hanzo's arrow around his fingers slowly as if in thought. "See if they can dig anything up on who might have gotten a hold of my information. And who might be offerin' up more money. Didn't think I would be worth this much."

 

And McCree isn't wrong.

 

His bounty is good, there's no doubting that and Hanzo would go after it, but he wouldn't go out of his way for it. He wouldn't hunt McCree and only McCree, not when there's other, higher, bounties for him to take out. Not without the extra money that he's receiving from the man who hired him to kill McCree.

 

McCree is in some tiny town in the middle of Texas, nothing for miles, certainly no bounties that would draw Hanzo's eye because McCree would have done his own research on this tiny little town before his arrival. The only reason for Hanzo to be here would be for McCree and it burns to have been caught so soon because of his own, faulty, aim.

 

"Now, who do we know that uses a bow," McCree mutters to himself as he enters his hotel and leaves Hanzo's range of sight. "And who do I trust enough to ask?"

 

Hanzo doesn't know who McCree might trust enough to ask, his listening device shorts out a few minutes later, a few minutes after the door to McCree's room opens and shuts in absolute silence.

 

He rips the listening device from his ear and hisses in disgust at the loss of his one chance to keep watch on McCree without putting himself at risk. Something in the room had disrupted the device, either a short range disrupter that he had only activated in the safety of his room or something in the design of the room, Hanzo wasn't sure which.

 

Hanzo is starting to think he should burn his whole file and start over from scratch, at this rate he's actually getting further behind than the idiots that go about trying to stab him without a real plan. He's starting to feel, he wants to snarl, incompetent.

 

Hanzo isn't incompetent.

 

He's an assassin and he's good at what he does. He's never been incompetent before now. It's, Hanzo hates it.

 

He pulls out his communicator and waits patiently as it rings, his head tipped back and his eyes on the sky, "I need a favor." He ignores the complaint and the groaning of his contact on the other end, teeth bared in rage, much like his dragons. "A very big favor."

 

"Going to cost you."

 

"You always say that and I always pay you, I need information on Jesse McCree."

 

"Mhm," There's a moment of silence before his contact sighs. "I'll see what I can do, what there is to dig up, but I'm not promising more then I got you last time. I mean some of his things are locked away safe and sound behind more lock than I'll ever have keys for. Give me a few days and I'll have more news for you."

 

"I'm trying to kill him currently."

 

"A day and I'll know if I can get anything more. So over dramatic, Shimada," That contact states hanging up on him before he can get a word in edgewise.

 

Hanzo growls at the sky and tries to ring back, snarling when it directs straight to voicemail instead, his hands shaking in rage as he shoves it back into his pocket instead of smashing the communicator against the roof. He takes a deep breath before tucking Storm Bow back into its case and heading back to his own hotel room, he would wait until later and then come back to observe his target. Maybe when his temper had settled a bit.

 

Perhaps then he would know more about Jesse McCree and he would be able to plan something more than a random attack. He doubted it, his contact hadn't found anything on her last attempt, but he was optimistic.

* * *

 

"Do you want the good news or the bad news first," Hanzo's contact asks when she calls back, her voice bright and almost perky, accompanied by the creak of the desk chair that Hanzo knows  she's spinning in. "Because I have both."

 

Hanzo groans and stares at his clock, blinking to make the numbers slide into focus, knowing that she called back this early to punish him for what he had done yesterday, "Bad news?"

 

"I've got nothing about his time in Blackwatch and only barely more than public record for his time in Deadlock," she states calmly. "I have nothing at all about his childhood and absolutely nothing from my arsenal has hacked into Overwatch's main frame."

 

"Then how could you possibly have good news?" Hanzo asks staring at his ceiling in confusion, the lack of sleep was obviously messing with his hearing. "You said that you had good news, you can't have nothing if you have good news as well."

 

"I do have good news," she agrees. "My cat had kittens and they are cute and adorable. None of them have died."

 

Hanzo pinches the bridge of his nose and counts to ten because he can't afford to murder his contact even if he would prefer to do so, no matter how annoying she might be. "Do you have anything on McCree that we didn't have before or were you only going to tell about the kittens?"

 

"Just the kittens."

 

"I'm firing you and hiring a more competent hacker," Hanzo yawns, burying his face into his pillow and peering at his clock once more as if in the vain hope that the time would have turned to later in the morning magically. "You do know that it's two in the morning and I'm going to find you and kill you after I'm done here, don't you?"

 

"I quiver in fear. I live in terror. The dangerous Hanzo Shimada is going to murder me in my sleep. He's going to come and kill me dead."

 

Hanzo scowls, "You're dead."

 

"I leave my kittens to you. Feed them and make sure to get them to good homes. Don't feed them to your dragons or I'll haunt you the rest of my life."

 

"Mhm," Hanzo yawns. "So, we have nothing on McCree and my files are worthless, is what you have to tell me?"

 

"Yes. And that I have named one of the kittens Hanzo, because he is tiny and grumpy. Tiny, grumpy kitten Hanzo. Actually, I did find something about Overwatch, if you want to know something more than nothing?"

 

Hanzo hums because it was always better to get something out of his contact when he asked for things, and if it was something, it meant that they had been digging and they thought it might be connected.

 

"Something was destroying it. I'm not sure what it was, but the missions were starting to get suspicious. Even I can tell that much and I can only get so deep, I'm not that great a hacker and that Skull kid can beat me, but I'm not an idiot."

 

"You think that McCree might have noticed something and gotten out before everything boiled over?" Hanzo asks thoughtfully.

 

His contact taps something quietly for a moment, "His departure coincides with the downfall of the organization. Not the deaths of Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison, which came later, but not too much after Ana Amari's death was confirmed and he attended her funeral."

 

"He either saw something or something happened to make him leave in that time," Hanzo yawns, trying to focus as he scribbles notes onto the papers scattered over his bedside table, blinking to try and keep his eyes open. "Or he was mourning and planned to return."

 

"Can't tell. Can tell you that he took off and that he's been doing this and that since he left. He's been on the man who hired you's radar since McCree took down several of his enterprises. He's been attempting to take McCree in for the offense ever since and his men have all failed, you were his first attempt at branching out."

 

"And what a cheap attempt to branch out."

 

"I don't trust him not to try and kill you after you finish up what he wants, but if he pays you, then it's a good deal. You're going to make more than you'd lose. You, are you alright, Hanzo?" She pauses and doesn't add that he's been off since his last assignment in Japan, even though they both know it.

 

Hanzo closes his eyes and sees Genji. He can see his brother, more cybernetic than human now with eyes that stare at him and see more than Hanzo wants him to. He sees Genji alive and willing to forgive him for what he had done, when Hanzo still wasn't willing to forgive himself yet.

 

"I'm fine. Thank you, for the information, it's more than I had before," Hanzo sets the communicator back down on the table and stares at the wall for a long moment. He doesn't think he's going to be able to sleep anymore tonight, not when Genji is in the forefront of his thoughts. He hopes that McCree will be less of an enigma tomorrow.

 

He doubts it, but he doubts a great many things when he's this tired. When he can still see Genji's eyes there before him, watching him.

* * *

 

Hanzo is perched back on the edge of the building, just in the edge of a shadow, perfectly out of sight of where McCree should look if he even looks up, head turned to catch the first glimpse of the red serape as McCree passes through the building to the lower levels to the hotel and out the main door, the hiss of his bug coming back online like static in his ears.

 

"Thanks for the information, Winston," McCree says brightly, his voice un-modulated. "I didn't mean to bother ya, but I guess some of the others route ta ya these days, don't they?"

 

Hanzo wishes that he could hack into the communicator directly and hear the other side of the conversation, but he's not that tech savvy, he's stuck with what he's got here and it's pricking at his skin and leaves him feeling like he needs to know or have more. Hanzo despises that feeling more than he likes to admit and he refuses to admit that he's feeling it now.

 

"It's not going to get me in anymore trouble. I'm fine," McCree states calmly. "I'm not going to get into trouble and it's not like we have anything going on currently. I'll send ya a crate of peanut butter in thanks, ya big ape."

 

He has a new hat, Hanzo notices after a long moment, his eyes finally lingering on the hat on his head. It's a warm shade of tan compared to the black one that he had before, with something circling it. Hanzo doesn't know what it is called, but it looks interesting and he's sure that it has a name, most things that these Americans have or own have a name.

 

McCree pulls a, it looks like a cigar, but it's smaller and thinner, Hanzo is sure that it isn't in fact a cigar, cigar and lights it. Taking a deep breath and breathing out smoke. He steps out into the street and is almost swallowed by the crowd in a way that Hanzo has seen many a spy envy, his hat only barely visible over the tops of the rest of the crowd as Hanzo follows him over rooftops, making sure to stick close enough to him so not to lose sight, but far enough back to not be noticed.

 

"Now, where would I be hidin' if I was goin' be," McCree mutters to himself softly, fragments of sentences picked up by the bug. "What in tarnation?"

 

The last is said as McCree stares at a stall perched on a street corner with bright multi-colored lights and golden lettering that was attention catching even from the distance that Hanzo was looking from. It was set alone from the rest of the stalls, without the crowds and Hanzo could almost feel the trap that it presented, eyebrow rising as McCree took half a step forward and paused as if reconsidering.

 

"This is gotta be the gaudiest thing that I've seen since that time in Amsterdam," McCree states stepping closer to get a better look. It looked even more like a trap as Hanzo slipped closer, the kind of trap from a child's cartoon and Hanzo feels like they're waiting for the villian to spring it and reveal that he was in fact the same tired character that it has been the entire series, hidden poorly behind a disguise that wouldn't fool a child. Except-

 

"You've got some nice things here," McCree states suddenly, already in the stall and looking over whatever it is that they have on sale. "I ain't seen anything like this before, but they're nice. I've been needin' a new one. How much?"

 

Hanzo listens to price haggling, both starting with prices that were far beyond the pale and meeting at something far more reasonable. He shakes his head and leans against the sun baked stone for a moment before shifting away, the heat already too much to touch as he reaches for his water and takes another long drink. The heat in the deep south is far warmer than the heat that Hanzo was use to growing up in Japan.

 

"Thanks," McCree waves to the young man in the stall accepting the bag. "The holsters are good quality, where did ya get them?"

 

"Family secret," The young man's voice is barely captured by the bug as McCree laughs and playfully attempts to get more from him.

 

"Thank you for your purchase, sir."

 

"Have a good day," McCree agrees brightly, looking pleased with his purchase as he leaves the stall.

 

Hanzo steadies himself as he spots an opening, balancing as McCree turns onto a less crowded street and takes aim, his breathing slowing down as he readies himself, feeling his dragons whisper close to the surface as he makes sure to go for the throat this time.

 

McCree knows that there's someone with more talent than normal after him and Hanzo doesn't want him to know more than that.

 

He closes his eyes and breaths out, snapping his eyes open and refocusing on his target, fixing his aim and moving his bow back into place so that he would hit perfectly, "Good bye, Jesse McCree."

 

There is a moment where Hanzo is sure that the arrow was going to strike McCree down, before he blinked again.

 

Hanzo snarls in rage, his arrow buried in the back of a weaker of assassin that had thought to try and take advantage of McCree's distraction. It's enough to make him scream his rage to the skies. He had missed.

 

He had missed again. He had missed a second time and this time, he had even accidentally saved McCree's life in the process. It was infuriating and it was making him feel like he was destined to fail, destined to never quite hit McCree and complete his goal.

 

"You aren't a friend," McCree states and Hanzo's lungs freeze as he turns to see the man still in the street, the arrow in his hand. "I know that much. Winston says that you're for hire most likely. So that means that was luck."

 

Hanzo breaths out, tucking Storm Bow back into his quiver for the time being, McCree was talking to himself. A habit that was noted even in the bare files that he had been given by his contractor, something that apparently he did to help himself think.

 

"But it's good for me. I have more about you and you know it. You're probably furious about that, I know how contract jobs go, you're going to do something new soon. Something that you wouldn't normally do because you and I both know that this isn't what you were planning. I was supposed to die with that first arrow. Not sure if it was suppose to go through my head or my heart and something went wrong," McCree tips his hat forward to shade his eyes and Hanzo ducks back further out of sight to avoid being spotted. "Now where would that shot have come from?"

 

Hanzo jumps back quickly and hurries away from the spot he had been in, his eyes darting quickly, watching for cameras to make sure that he hadn't been spotted. His route had none on it, but this wasn't his route, this was a retreat that hadn't been planned. He hadn't planned for this, at least nothing beyond something abstract because he, like so many others, had underestimated Jesse McCree.

 

"Shimada?" His informant yawns when he calls her. "I still can't get anything about McCree."

 

"What about people who have gone after McCree?"

 

She pauses, her keyboard clattering, "Dead mostly. A couple reneged on the contracts and a handful are disabled now. But mostly dead. A lot of dead. And those are the ones that I can find. There's more than that labelled missing, Shimada."

 

"So, it is not a good idea to go after Jesse McCree, is that what I am hearing?"

 

"That's what I'm seeing?"

 

“That’s not what I was hoping for,” Hanzo sighs, hanging up before she can say another word, this was not looking good.

* * *

 

Jesse spins the second arrow around his fingers and smirks, all the evidence that he has for his newest stalker laid out on the desk.

 

The bug that he had taken care to place back into his serape each morning, a handful of blurred photographs taken from the camera hidden in the band of his hat, the arrow that had taken out his first hat, and the small file that Winston had been able to find so far with such little information.

 

"So, Japanese most likely," he mutters softly to himself and wishes that Genji's number hadn't rerouted to Winston, it would be nice to know a little more about the country from someone who had lived there. "Older, that looks like silver hair to me, or someone trying to look older."

 

He taps his fingers over the list of assassins and bounty hunters from Japan or of Japanese descent that Winston had provided along with their preferred weapons, carefully ruling them out.

 

"This list might as well be its own country," Jesse mutters to himself and flipping through the list and pausing when he found an entire block of Shimada. "Genji's family?"

 

He taps names and pulls up pictures and affiliations curiously, researching them a little further, most of them tracing back to the Shimada Clan's empire, except for Shimada Hanzo.

 

"Now this one looks familiar, don't it?" he mutters to himself, looking at the face of the man hovering before him and reaching for one of the less blurry pictures of his own stalker. "Mhm, at least, a passing resemblance. The man that tried to murder Genji."

 

Jesse remembers prying this story out of Genji, the slow process of teasing it out with more and more liquor between long missions and the deaths of their friends. He had only gotten the last of the story out of him just before the mission that had taken Ana from them. It had been worth it, worth every moment of it because it had gotten Genji talking to them when he was sober. When he was calm and relaxed and everything in between.

 

"But what in the world would a Shimada be doing unattached to the clan? After me?" Jesse asks making his choice. He's been wrong before, but this one feels right and he's not going to change his mind now. "Who's paying money for me, enough for someone like Hanzo Shimada to come to a little town like this to try and kill me?" He pauses. "Did I piss someone off recently?"

 

Jesse is sure he might have. He's pissed off people easily enough over the years, by accident and on purpose, more than his fair share some would claim, but he's not going to stop doing it anytime soon.

 

"Might have to look into that too, damn it." He picks up his communicator. "Hey Winston, don't worry about the assassin. I need you to do something else for me real quick. Did someone offer up more money for me recently?"

* * *

  
  
Hanzo knows something is going on when he leaves his room and he goes to wait for McCree to leave his hotel and McCree never appears. He waits for hours, moving down from the rooftops to a small cafe with wide glass windows that give him a perfect view of the main entrance of the hotel, the only entrance and exit that guests are allowed to use.

 

It's possible that Hanzo missed McCree, however McCree had established a reputation for waking later in the morning and staying out for most of the afternoon, it doesn't make sense for him to have changed it suddenly. It's something that he has done for years, something even the failed attempts had picked up on him.

 

So Hanzo smiles politely at the barista and orders a drink that is supposed to be tea and isn't more than barely flavored water, taking a newly vacated chair that lets him pretend to read the book that he has in his hands.

 

No one says anything about how long he lingers, not even the barista, who suggests a different drink when he comes up the third time and pushes him towards the pastry case because it's far past lunch and they both heard Hanzo's stomach rumble.

 

McCree doesn't return however. He doesn't sweep down the street with his serape trailing him like a cloak, doesn't do something that would attract attention, Hanzo doesn't know what McCree might have done or where he might have gone. It doesn't make sense, it doesn't match anything they were able to find or even put together by watching him.

 

Hanzo finally leaves the shop two hours before the posted closing time, his shoulders aching and his head throbbing from clenching his jaw too tightly, already pulling out his communicator as he steps out the door.

 

"You giving up for the day?"

 

Hanzo frowns, holding Storm Bow's case close to avoid it getting hit by the crowd, "Can you track the bug that we put on McCree?"

 

"Mhm," She pauses. "I can try? I mean, if he's in a place where we couldn't pick up the bug, than we wouldn't be able to pick up any transmission at all. I'll call you back when I've got something for you?"

 

"That's fine," Hanzo sighs.

 

It's not far to his hotel room and he's tired enough that he barely nods back to the greeter behind the front desk, taking the elevator up to his room and opening it. He flicks the light on and stops short at the sight on his bed, hand going tight around the handle of Storm Bow's case.

 

"Evenin'," Jesse McCree greets from Hanzo's bed, looking up from the folder that had been on Hanzo's bedside table. "It's nice to see you're finally here. I was startin' ta think ya had gotten lost or somethin'."

 

"Who are you?" Hanzo states calmly, his eyes moving over the room as he stays close to the door. If he can keep McCree talking, keep him from noticing anything, there’s a chance that he might be able to get out of here without incident. “How did you get into my room?”

 

“Now darlin’, shouldn’t I be the one askin’ the questions here? Since you’ve got my picture all neat in this file with so much information about me,” McCree smiles, holding up the photo and tipping his head just so to match it. “Or are ya gonna say someone planted it, Hanzo Shimada?”

 

Hanzo’s blood turns to ice in his veins, his heart stuttering in his chest because no one was supposed to know who he was. He worked hard to keep his anonymity, since he was a former member of the Shimada Clan and one of the few members left of the main family line.

 

“Aw, ya didn’t think your arrows weren’t a big help tracking you down, did ya? Would have had a much harder time without them, since they’re special makes.”

 

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Hanzo says, already knowing that he’s responded too quickly by the smirk that appears on McCree’s face. “You must have me confused with someone else,” because at this point he might as well keep going with this idea. “And how did that get into my room?’

 

“You’re adorable,” Hanzo frowns harder, his face dark. “Aw, just like a kitten!”

 

McCree plays the idiot well, Hanzo knew this from what little information he could get on him and from the way he interacted over the last few days, but it’s times like this that Hanzo realizes why people buy into it so often. It’s well cultivated and the simple way that McCree lets it keep going is amazing, just building onto it. But the comparison is worrying, is McCree making his own observation or has his line of communication to his contact been compromised? How much more information does McCree have?

 

“I do not appreciate the comparison,” Hanzo says finally, instead of demanding the answers that he wants.

 

“Ya don’t really have a choice, do ya? I can say what I want to ‘bout what ya remind me of. It’s my mind, not yours,” something in his face changes and Hanzo feels like he needs to run, like he had when he was younger and his father had caught he and Genji in something they shouldn’t have been. “But that ain’t why I’m here. So, Hanzo Shimada,” the way his name is said makes something shiver down his spine. “Who wants me dead?”

 

It’s enough to jerk Hanzo back into action, throwing himself out the door and through the window at the end of the hall, where the fire escape waited. He doesn’t risk a look back, knowing that any one worth their salt would be on his heels faster than Hanzo could reach the alleyway.

 

* * *

  
  
Jesse snorts as the door hangs open, Shimada is long gone and unlikely to stop until he thought himself safe. That was fine, Jesse had plenty of information here in this room to find out more, he could catch up with him later. He sets his hat to the side, and finishes through the file, barely anything worth noting, before taking another look around the room.

 

He was always so disappointed when there wasn’t a wall of pictures and notes, like there always was in movies with stalkers and killers. There hadn’t been a single one of his bounty hunters that kept that board of yarn and pictures and maps, Jesse wonders if he can pay for his own bounty hunter just to get that. It was boring to see the plain off white walls of the motel room, the battered dresser, and the unmade bed that he had been lounging on.

 

There’s not a single name on the information that Jesse thinks links back to the one who offered more money for him. Winston was still digging, as he had promised, but there was still something missing.

 

Jesse didn’t remember upsetting anyone recently, at least not in the last week, which was as recently as that comment could count. Jesse had upset a number of people in the three weeks before that. At least no one beyond the Talon, but he didn’t think that they would recruit Shimada for something like this. Not when he heard that Overwatch, and Blackwatch, agents were usually taken down by Reaper himself or one of his minions, and not the mooks that had been on the train. Which might mean that one of his old enemies had gotten more money.

 

He pauses, activating his communicator as it chimes, “You know, I thought that would take longer, Winston.”

 

“You act like my skills have degraded over the years, Jesse.” The tone is almost joking in nature, but Jesse can hear something underlining it. He says nothing about that, but he’s sure that Winston must know.

 

“Ah, why would’a guy think that? You’re a good hacker, ain’t no one in Overwatch any better.”

 

“Athena would be very upset that you said that,” Jesse can hear Athena deny such things, but that’s fine, he’s used to the way that Winston spoke to the AI. “But I did get some information, if you aren’t busy?”

 

“He rabbited,” Jesse pouts, he had been hoping for a little more information from Shimada, it was no fun having to gather it all himself. “But I’ve got all his shit in the hotel room, if’in ya need that.”

 

Winston sighs, “If in is not an acceptable word, or phrase, so help me, Jesse McCree. But I would like some information from his room. Do you have a way to take pictures of it?”

 

“Ya would’a thought I was new or somethin’,” Jesse grumbles taking the pictures and uploading them to him easily. “Think ya can get something outta that?”

 

“Do you know that you play up that accent to make yourself sound unintelligent to others. Or to throw them off about who you might be,” Winston says over the sound of the keyboard. “It’s rather interesting to listen to the comms on missions vs the times that you interrogate suspects. The differences-”

 

“You’re killing me, Winston,” Jesse says rolling his eyes as he fiddles with a communicator, likely a spare, that Shimada had left behind. “I know all a’ this already.”

 

“And, perhaps if you had stopped using it before I brought it up, then I wouldn’t have,” Winston returns and Jesse rolls his eyes instead of responding.

 

The communicator is locked, not that Jesse had expected anything less. The fingerprint and the other lock that Shimada has on it aren’t going to let him in, Jesse doesn’t have Shimada’s fingers nor whatever the secondary lock is, but the third lock looks far more promising. A simple six-digit passcode.

 

Jesse taps his thumbs against the edges of the communicator in thought. Six digit passcodes were always interesting, but he didn’t know enough about Shimada to begin to guess at what he might have put into place to protect the information. Nor did he know if Shimada was one of those, rightfully, paranoid people who had their device wipe itself after a certain number of incorrect attempts to unlock it. And that would just be a shame, all that information lost.

 

“I don’t suppose we have any information from Genji about what his brother would choose for a six digit passcode?” Jesse asks because he doesn’t want to try without a hint.

 

Winston makes a sound that might have been a considering, scrambled slightly by Jesse’s older model communicator, “I can check the files with Athena, but the best options would be either Shimada himself or Genji, depending how much his brother has changed since they were last close.”

 

And that was the real question. If Shimada had changed enough that Genji wouldn’t be able to guess the passcode, then Jesse would have to see about a hacker. Someone that would be able to go deeper than whomever encrypted the communicator. One would be faster and the other would be more certain of getting what Jesse needed. Which made the real question time, just like it always came down to when someone went on assignment.

 

Jesse doubted that Shimada would be coming back anytime soon, which meant that the only reason to try and access the communicator would be to get to any files that Shimada had stored on it locally, since he didn’t doubt that the man would change any passwords on all of the accounts that would be linked into it.

 

"Would you like me to start a trace for Genji or are you going to do something else?" Winston asks curiously. "If you have made up your mind about your options."

 

"I'll get it hacked, it'll be faster, but if ya would be willing to check in with Genji? I wanna find out more about his older brother."

 

Winston laughs, "I can do that. You might want to get out of there now, however. It seems that Shimada has sent a notice to the hotel that he had to leave in a rush and, after checking the address of where he's asking his things to be delivered, it's not going to be returned to him."

 

"What an interestin' fellow."

 

Jesse doesn't bother jumping out the window, slipping out the door with the files he wanted to keep. He smiled to the housekeeper that exited the elevator as he entered, smirking when she headed right for Shimada's room. Just in time then.

 

"I'll call you back if I get more information from what we're looking through. Otherwise, I expect you to get back into contact with me," Winston states calmly. "We could use you back at Overwatch, you know."

 

"I don't think I'm ready to come back yet. Besides, if this works out right, maybe I'll be draggin' back Shimada with me. I'm sure you can sell the idea to Genji."

 

Winston laughs, "Selling ideas to Genji was always your job. Good luck with your new game, Jesse. I hope you have a fun time."

 

"You too. I remember how bad everyone was when we were all together, I'm sure that they'll still drive you insane even now," Jesse says grinning as Winston hangs up on him.

 

Jesse taps the pocket with the communicator, debating the other hackers that he had used and which one would work fastest while still providing the best work. And if they would be able to put even more of a rush on it. He wanted to go after Shimada as fast as possible, too much time would put him too far behind and it would take a lot of luck to get back on his trail again.

 

He scrolls through his contact list, repeating the action again before tapping on a name and letting it ring through before calling back again. Which isn't answered. Jesse raises an eyebrow, making another call and grinning when there was an answer.

 

"Hey, it's McCree. I have a job for you."

 

* * *

  
  
There’s a moment where Hanzo almost sets foot onto the steps to the Shimada Castle, his memories so scattered, where he expects to step inside and find Genji waiting to pounce on him and say something about the cherry blossoms and how, we should go see them! It’s only the briefest of moments, but Hanzo is glad that he catches himself before it happens. He might not have had anything to do with the Shimada in some time, but he doesn’t doubt that he would be most unwelcome.

 

He skirts the outside of it, following the walls to a small park that he thinks might have been donated by his family at some point to keep the local government off their backs. He can’t remember all the details of his family history the way he could when he had lived in the castle. It didn’t seem as important when Genji was dead at his hands and he was alone.

 

His shoulders relax as the crowds start to thin out, his eyes staring somewhere in the distance, unfocused as he tried to gather his thoughts. He didn’t know if it was safe to come out of hiding, but he doubted that it would be anytime soon. There was a chance that Jesse McCree, and Hanzo was starting to hate that name, would track his name and the other scraps of information that he had left behind in his rush to escape, might even find out about Hanamura. But Hanzo was known to avoid his hometown. In fact the only time he had been by it in the last few years had been to slip in and sneak in to light the incense for his brother, otherwise he tended to stay as far away as he could. It was the last place he would go, historically.

 

Which meant, as much as Hanzo hated this, hated being here and having to hide, it was the best place to be until he could look into what McCree was doing and if he had stopped, at least actively, hunting Hanzo. It was a waiting game and Hanzo, while patient, didn’t enjoy them. He prefered things happen quickly so that he could move on from them. At least he liked to think that he did.

 

“Ya know,” Hanzo can feel something cold resting in his chest like ice at the sound of that voice, a sudden weight on the bench beside him. “A man would think ya were hidin’ from him, the way ya took off like that. Almost like ya didn’t wanna talk to me.”

 

Hanzo forces himself to look to his side, the smile on Jesse McCree’s face the same as it had been when Hanzo had walked into his hotel room to find him in his bed. The hat is missing, the sarape too, but his clothing is very much something that Hanzo saw in those old westerns. From the dusty looking jeans to the plaid button up with the sleeves rolled up. Hanzo wishes that seeing him wasn’t as much a reminder of that time in his life.

 

“How did you find me?” Hanzo asks instead. He needs to know, so that when he convinces McCree to let him leave this park and takes off for somewhere new, somewhere safe away from men who dress like they belong in Westerns, he won’t be found again. “I thought I had thrown off any trails that were after me.”

 

McCree laughs, but he doesn’t sound remotely insulted, “Ya left this,” He holds out Hanzo’s spare communicator, moving his hand away before Hanzo can steal it from him. “Ya left it in your things and I happen to know a number of very talented people. And you didn’t change your password. That’s just sloppy, Shimada,” McCree says his last name oddly, drawling out the syllables of it.

 

“I’m so sorry that I couldn’t live up to these tastes that you have thought me to have,” Hanzo states, already making notes to do just that

 

It’s safe here for the moment. Too many people for any of the killing methods McCree uses to be useful. Not unless he’s developed a penchant for poison in the last six months. Which is unlikely, McCree strikes Hanzo as a gunslinger, a man to use a knife if he must, but not someone who would use poison without reason.

 

“I thought ya to be smarter than that. You’ve got more than just me on ya tail, you know. If I can get into one of your spare communicators, who’s sayin’ that someone else can’t do the same. At least if ya change the passwords, it’ll offer you the option to wipe’m.”

 

"I'm sure that I'll remember it for the next time that I take off and leave my spare behind. I'm sure that you weren't tracking me down to talk about that however."

 

"Maybe I was. Maybe I was just interested in talking about how you have failed basic safety when you're a wanted assassin who has a bounty of his own. What would the government think if they got a hold of something like this."

 

"You know," Hanzo states slowly, glancing out the corner of his eye to keep a close watch on McCree to see his reaction. "You're nowhere near as stupid as you pretend."

 

McCree laughs, Hanzo is starting to think that McCree laughs too much, "Ya know, you aren't the first person that's told me that before. It's not like I'm doing anything other than what I would normally."

 

"You don't normally hunt down people who kill you. Not after they've stopped trying to kill you. I've looked into it, you know. There's a number of people who tried to kill you and either ended up dead or seemingly vanish. But there's a few that have decided to stop trying and send a letter of resignation to those who hired them."

 

"What? Do you think I'm going around and making people rethink their actions? Sounds like a lot of work, ya know. Walking around and trying to make them listen to me."

 

Hanzo snorts, "They have only good things to say about you. The ones that you don't kill, I looked into it further and they seemed to think you were a good person. Sounds like you make quite the impression."

 

"I'm good at that," McCree agrees brightly. "You know, you tricked me for a bit. I thought you would head somewhere else, Japan wasn't my first choice, but then again, I think that's why you picked it out, didn't you?"

 

"You're very smart, you know. Figuring out where I've gone and even gotten there with enough time to find me before I moved on."

 

McCree leans back slightly, his arms crossed over his chest, "You weren't moving on. At least not anytime soon. You settled in, gone to ground and I doubt that you'll be moving from here anytime soon. Not until you were sure that I wasn't going to come after you."

 

"Smart."

 

"I think you're just complimenting me to see if I'll agree to leave you alone. And the second that I do that, you'll take off and follow my advice to try and get away from me again. I'm not going to kill you."

 

"A great many people say that and I have never believed them," Hanzo says glancing over at McCree. "I'm sure you can understand why I think that, considering how both of us make our living."

 

"I don't kill people to make my living, I just kill people because I have to. It's not for the fun or anything. Sometimes it's for the money and other times it's because I've been asked to."

 

"Is that not the same thing?"

 

McCree tilts his head, fingers tapping along his prosthetic arm, "I worked for the government once. They would ask me to kill people because they were dangerous and shouldn't be allowed to keep living. They may have paid me, but they expected me to kill because I was asked. I think it's a difference."

 

"I suppose it is."

 

"What about you? Have you always killed people for money?"

 

Hanzo doesn't understand McCree at all, he isn't trying to threaten him or to make any kind of assault against him, but here he is, blathering on like he thinks that they're friends. It doesn't make any sense, but Hanzo is starting to think that McCree doesn't make sense in general, it's not the most comforting feeling.

 

"I have killed to protect the family's honor," he admits finally and tries not to think of the final time that he had done so. "It's what is expected of you when you are the next in line to take over the Shimada clan."

 

"Genji said your clan was pretty weird, something about honor and how it works. I didn't listen much, he was always pretty upset when he was talkin' about your family."

 

"He spoke of us?"

 

"He spoke of a lot of things. I don't think you want to know all the details of it. It's not exactly the prettiest story, I'm sure that you know, and Genji wasn't very forgiving at the time. But I don't think that you would have been very forgiving at that time, either."

 

Hanzo nods tiredly, "I don't know how he survived. I know he is, he came here."

 

"Huh, thought he was staying with one of our old allies and was stayin' there even with the recall. Did he blame you?"

 

"He told me that he didn't. He says that the only one blaming me now is myself because he has forgiven me."

 

McCree doesn't say anything and Hanzo thinks that he might be waiting for Hanzo to say more, but there isn't more to say. He doesn't have anything else to add on to it because he doesn't believe that. He thinks that Genji is wrong and he shouldn't forgive Hanzo for what he had done to him.

 

"I think," McCree says finally, leaning forward slightly. "That it's Genji's choice to either forgive or not to forgive you. If he's made the choice to forgive you, that's his choice. He can forgive anyone he wants and he wants to forgive you. I don't know why or what lead to his choice, but they're his, aren't they?" He pauses and his hand moves like he's going to shift his hat, changing mid-motion to brush through his hair. "He's also right. You have to try and forgive yourself or try to understand the incident because you're the only one of you still blaming you."

 

"You sound like you have experience with this sort of thing."

 

"I'm a man of many talents," McCree agrees, but he doesn't elaborate and Hanzo didn't try to ask. "But, he's got a good point. Do you want to be forgiven? Genji's alive and I'm sure that he would have said more than just that."

 

Hanzo doesn't answer and McCree doesn't push. He's noticed that about him, McCree doesn't push when he could. He gives options and offers, but he doesn't make people do anything. Hanzo doesn't know if he's thankful for that or not.

 

"Here," McCree hands him something, a picture of a store somewhere in the world. "I'm off. Don't get yourself in more trouble, I don't think Genji will forgive you if you end up dead."

 

Hanzo flips the picture, printed on paper, but there's no writing on the back, "You're just going to go? Like that?"

 

"Sure, I've let you know what I wanted to say and I've helped you talk yourself through something. I think you should be fine," McCree grins. "And if not, I'm sure you'll be able to track me down again to have another talk, won't you?"

 

"I suppose so," Hanzo agrees flipping the picture around again, glancing to where McCree had been to find him gone. "You are a strange man, Jesse McCree."

 

Maybe he should take a look at this picture and find out what it was of.

* * *

  
  
Jesse leans back and pulls out his communicator, taking his time to pull up his contacts and dragging up Shimada Hanzo’s name and the number that he had stolen when he had gone to do his check up in Japan. His fingers linger over it, debating, before sliding up the messaging and tapping in a message.

 

‘Alive still?’

 

The response is almost instantaneous, and Jesse can feel the incredulous look that would be on Shimada’s face as he reads it, ‘How did you get this number?’

 

‘Stole it.’

 

Jesse laughs when the devices informs him that Shimada is typing. He can only imagine what he is writing and erasing, as if he’s backpedalling as he goes, trying to come up with some response to Jesse’s message. The little bubble vanishes for a long moment and Jesse wonders if Shimada turned it off before he has a response.

 

‘Do you often steal numbers from people? Or do you just do it to people that try to kill?’

 

‘Made an exemption just for you, darlin.’

 

‘I’m aquiver.’

 

Jesse grins as his communicator rings, answering it, “I thought you didn’t want to hear my melodious voice.”

 

“I thought you would be smart enough to end contact with a man who has tried to kill you on more than one occasion,’ Shimada states, voice cool and collected. Jesse is fairly certain that even if that is how he sounds, it’s not how he looks. “Or do you do this regularly?”

 

“Maybe I did it because you changed your passwords and I missed all those kitten pictures that one of your contacts sent you. He’s such a grumpy looking little fellow.”

 

Jesse wishes he could see Shimada’s face, he can hear the grinding of his teeth and Jesse can only imagine the way his knuckles have likely gone white as he tries not to crush his communicator. Jesse knows what kind of person he is, how annoying and trying he can be, he doesn’t feel guilty about making Shimada suffer.

 

“You got my number to call me about a cat?”

 

“A kitten. Not a cat. I didn’t catch his name. Your contact always wrote ‘grumpy hanzo’ when they sent the photos and you are always grumpy. This isn’t news to anyone.”

 

“The kitten.” There’s a hiss and Jesse wants to grin, he’s having so much fun teasing Shimada. “The kitten is named Hanzo.”

 

Jesse laughs, “You have a kitten named after you? Is it because it’s so grumpy? I wish there was a picture of Grumpy Kitten Hanzo with you, it would make my life complete.”

 

“Why are you doing this?” Shimada asks instead of letting Jesse have his fun. “You could be doing anything that you might want, however, you keep turning up to bother me. What purpose do you have for that?”

 

“Do I need a purpose? Maybe I want to know about the older brother of one of my best friends.”

 

"The man who killed him."

 

"If Genji can forgive you then who am I to judge you? It's his choice to forgive you and he's gone that. So, if I want to be a good friends, and I am a good friend, I would respect his wishes and get to know you."

 

"The more I learn about you, Jesse McCree, the less I seem to understand you. You don't make much sense, you know."

 

Jesse hums softly, "I'm a simple man, really. People assume I'm more complicated than I really am, but I don't know where they seem to come to that conclusion."

 

"I'm sure that I wouldn't dare to guess. Did you have more reasons to bother me at this time?"

 

"No. Like I said, I want to know my friend's brother. Genji would like it, if we at least attempted to make peace with you, for his sake. Besides, I'm not upset about you almost killing me. A job is a job, but you sound like one of those guys that it takes time to get over that."

 

"Get over a murder attempt," Shimada sounds deadpan and tired, like he can't believe the words coming out of Jesse's mouth. Jesse doesn't understand why he wouldn't, there's no reason for him to lie about this. "You expect people to just get over a murder attempt?"

 

"I don't hold grudges when people try to murder me."

 

"You kill them or turn them to your side."

 

"But I never hold it against them. We work as killers, we murder for hire and go back to our lives as if nothing happened. Why would I hold a grudge about someone doing their job? If I can, I try to change their minds, otherwise, no hard feelings."

 

Jesse can hear Shimada sigh, "You are a strange man, Jesse McCree."

 

"Thank you. Now, about those kitten pictures. Do I have to bribe you to get more or do you think that I could get the number for the owner directly?"

 

"Why are you so insistent about this number?"

 

Jesse can't say that he's collecting the pictures for when he sees Genji next, Genji would like them, he knows his friend well. Genji liked cat pictures and he's sure that pictures that equate to his brother will be just as well liked.

 

"I like cats," Jesse says and he's almost being honest. "Will you give me it?"

 

The sigh that he gets in response is answer enough. Genji will love the pictures and Jesse is sure that Shimada isn’t as reluctant to give it over the number as he sounds.

* * *

 

Hanzo finds the location of the picture easily enough, once he puts his mind to it instead of wandering aimlessly, getting updates about the kitten that his contact had named after him, as if it was suppose to help him in some way. He thinks, reluctantly, that perhaps the messages from McCree, the updates in snapshots, may have been what finally spurred him into action.

 

It’s a little sun drenched town for all that he’s sure Dorado itself wouldn’t like that particular phrasing, the store itself hidden just across the street from the beach almost down an alleyway, scattered with little plastic tables with gaudily painted umbrellas that look like something Hanzo would expect from a tourist trap. He would be more shocked, he’s sure, if Jesse McCree hadn’t taken up residence at one of them, leaning back as he spoke to whoever was on the other end of his communicator. Just loud enough for Hanzo to pick up bits and pieces of the conversation.

 

“You’re so bossy.” McCree states finally and if he didn’t look so tired, didn’t look like the bags under his eyes were going to take over his face, then maybe Hanzo would listen to the conversation more. But he’s more concerned with the fact that McCree looks ready to fall asleep in his beer. “I hope you succeed.”

 

Hanzo waits, watching McCree cut off the communicator before leaning back heavily in his chair and sighing. He looks different than he had the last time that they had spoken and it’s strange. Hanzo had expected time to have changed things, just a few months but that could mean anything, but he hadn’t expected this. It was strange, watching him and seeing so little of the man that had teased him when he had been trying to kill him and even less of the man that had tracked him to his hiding place to give him advice.

 

“You look like you need more sleep,” Hanzo states making sure to come from an angle that McCree can see him from. “Unless you have been having a very bad day.”

 

McCree smiles, slow and dangerous, “I thought you were never going to catch up. A man gives you a written invitation to come and join him for a bit of fun in the sun and it takes you months to finally turn up.”

 

“Well, they were a little vague,” Hanzo says taking a seat and opening the menu that McCree had discarded on his side of the table. “You would think that it would be impressive to find such a place with only a blurry photo and the offer of meeting up.”

 

“I thought you were smarter than that, but maybe I shouldn’t have. Since you can’t even remember to change the passwords on your accounts to make sure that no one can hack your information.”

 

Hanzo raises an eyebrow, “And how did you expect me to find this place any faster? I may not have been looking from the start, but I did look for a time before I found the correct place. Did you have a faster way?”

 

“Image search, you can reverse look up the picture from there and would have found the website for the cafe. Takes about ten seconds and the website is the first result underneath any commercials that pop up,” McCree answers with a smirk. “Do you not know anythin’ about technology?”

 

“I know how to use it to a degree. I have never held overly much talent with it however. Just enough to get by.”

 

“That’s a damn shame, ya would think someone like you woulda been taught more about this sorta thing when you were a kid. Since the Shimada Clan is running such an empire. Wouldn’t the heir need to know how ta take care of these things on his own?”

 

“They thought that I would have trusted advisors to do that work for me. Since it wasn’t needed for me to do it myself, they were willing to let it fall to the wayside,” Hanzo answers honestly. His teachers may have despaired over his lack talent with the more complicated electronic arts, but he would have had so many trusted advisors. “Do you know what tastes good on this list?”

 

McCree huffs something that might have been a laugh, “I’ve stuck to their beer, don’t know much ‘bout the rest of their beverages.”

 

“I just heard you have a whole conversation without this deplorable accent, yet the moment that I show up here, it returns with a vengeance. Is this a game for you, McCree?”

 

“Maybe.”

 

Hanzo hums softly, waiting for the waitress to hurry away with his order before speaking, “I think it’s trying to throw me off. I know you’re smarter than you’ve let on previously and you’re trying to keep me from figuring out exactly how smart you are. A game, balancing act if you must, that will keep me on my toes as I attempt to figure out what you could and could not know.”

 

“You really think I’m playin’ ya that much?” McCree asks looking almost delighted. Hanzo wonders if this is a game that he’s played before and how many times someone has failed to live up to the standards that McCree held them to. “Seems like a lot’o work for a guy ta do.”

 

“But the reward would be great and you are a man who would play to win.”

 

McCree laughs, “Or maybe the person I was talkin’ to don’t like my accent and makes me polish myself up when we’re talkin’.”

 

“I doubt that you would be so friendly with someone that would force you to be someone that you are not.”

 

“You seem to think you know quite a bit about me. For a man that tried to kill me not too long ago.”

 

“I did spend a great deal of time stalking you and trying to figure out when the best time to kill you. You pick up a great deal of information about your targets when you do that,” Hanzo answers and McCree laughs again. “Are you saying that I am wrong, McCree?”

 

“Jesse. I think, after you killed my hat and saved my life, you can call me by my first name. Unless you have a dislike for first names?”

 

“Jesse then,” Hanzo agrees accepting his drink from the waitress. “You come here often?”

 

“It’s one of my favorite places to go. Not that I get to come here often, wouldn’t want to cause these poor people more trouble than I need to,” McCree says glancing at the beach and something somber settling over his features. “I came here with Blackwatch, didn’t see much of it then, but came back when I left and well.”

 

Hanzo tips his head to the side, he could see the appeal. It’s a gorgeous little beachside, the colorful stone homes and the white sands leading into blue water that glimmered. Not a place that he would come on his own, but he wouldn’t be upset at going.

 

“Come to terms with your brother?” McCree asks finally.

 

“No. I don’t think that I will ever come to terms with him still being alive, but I don’t think that I will be as conflicted as I was before. He has forgiven me and I may never forgive myself, but I will try because that is what he would want me to do,” Hanzo pauses. “He offered me a place, in your Overwatch.”

 

“Pretty sure that I don’t own Overwatch,” McCree says taking a sip of drink. “And that it’s disbanded and any reactivation would be cause for arrest. Or execution, depending what Winston has them running.”

 

“Do you not know?”

 

“I asked Fareeha not to tell me, she won’t unless I ask,” McCree answers with a shrug. “But I hear some from the news. People the likes of that don’t get missed and the number of time that someone catches a news report or Lucio posts a new video is more often than one might think.”

 

“But do you want to go back?”

 

McCree hums, “I think so. I always knew that I would go back, it’s not a matter of if, it’s when. They’ll need me, at some point, I’m sure. Even if they’re gaining new recruits, Talon numbers more than we do.”

 

“There will always be someone with greater numbers. That doesn’t mean that you should worry about them, without you there. Overwatch was talented, you know. Even my family knew not to get in their way. We were dangerous, yes, but they had quite the talent all their own.”

 

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

 

Hanzo smiles, “Is that not what friends are for?”

 

“We’re friends? Are you admitting that now,” McCree asks grinning crookedly. “I thought we were still at the acquaintance stage. If we went by how you picked these terms.”

 

"You're having far too much fun with this. And that's not what we were talking about. Are you going to join them?"

 

"Not yet," McCree answers finally. "I want to help them, but I don't think I want to go yet."

 

"Why not? Are you doing something else?"

 

"Maybe I'm just waiting for the right moment."

 

"I doubt the right moment will come to you while you sit on the coast of Dorado," Hanzo says leaning back in his seat to glance at the ocean. "But I suppose it's not the worst place in the world to wait for it."

 

McCree laughs, "You haven't even looked around yet. Who are you to judge anyway, Mr. I run back to my home town every time that I almost get caught on assignment."

 

"I do not go there only when I'm almost caught."

 

"Not only. That sounds like a confession."

 

Hanzo shakes his head, tilting his drink to point at McCree, "And do you not run here when you are in the same situation?"

 

"I would hope not," McCree says taking a sip of his drink. "Otherwise I would be here more than I would be anywhere else. Since I don't work under the same principles that you tend to. You would think that you were a ninja."

 

"A ninja?"

 

"You know, moving in the shadows, hiding from your targets."

 

"I'm not a ninja. I'm an assassin, there's a difference. Just like you are not one of those outlaws that you so like to dress up as."

 

McCree places a hand on his chest, eyes wide and betrayed, "I'm not dressing up as an outlaw. I'm dressed as a cowboy, a hero."

 

"I'm sure that is what you tell yourself, Jesse McCree, but you are nothing more than an outlaw."

 

"I have been betrayed by one that I thought of as a friend. I'm going to call the police and let them know that a wanted man is drinking on the beaches of Dorado and is going to go after someone," McCree says, but there's a smile and Hanzo thinks that perhaps this is what it means to have friends to joke with.

 

"I'm sure when they realize that it's another criminal being killed that they would let me be. After all, you do have quite the laundry list of crimes attached to your name."

 

"I'm going to throw you into the ocean and take pictures to share with Genji. I'm sure that he would never betray me like you have."

 

Hanzo freezes and he can see the way that McCree stops too, the hand he had raised to make a point falling to the table. It's a joke, Hanzo knows that it's a joke, but even if McCree hadn't meant it that way, he isn't wrong. Genji would never betray someone the way that Hanzo had. He would never have killed his own brother because the clan had ordered him to. Genji had never listened well to the elders.

 

"Hey, don't think about that."

 

"Why not? It's true, isn't it? Genji would not betray you."

 

"Genji would also tell you not to think like that. We're here to relax and have fun, don't you dare start thinking about your past," McCree pauses. "And remember, no matter what else, Genji forgave you."

 

Hanzo finishes his drink, "I shall try. Now, why have you dragged me all the way to Mexico?"

 

“For fun. What did you think there was some kind of plan?”

 

“With you incharge? No, but I held out some hope.”

 

McCree rolls his eyes, “Well you must have been disappointed. Come on, we’ve got a couple places to look around and then, we are going to take your pasty self to the beach.”

 

“I’m not pasty, not everyone can be, what is it called,” Hanzo frowns in thought before nodding, “sunburnt.”

 

“I am not sunburnt! I’m tanned. Tanned! Sunburns actually hurt.”

 

Hanzo nods, “This does not render my point invalid.”

 

“If that is what you want to think.”

* * *

 

Jesse isn't expecting the picture that Hanzo sends him. It's a storefront, tan and white with a blue overhang and flowers up the steps into it. There's a sign, just barely in frame and Jesse wonders if Hanzo meant to leave it in frame or if it was by chance, either way it'll make his search easier. He zooms in on it, squinting slightly when the words become slightly blurred and pixelated.

 

"Ya couldn't have given me a better picture?" Jesse asks his communicator as it chirps again and gives him how long Hanzo will be staying close to that location.

 

'this is because u got sunburnt, isnt it'

 

Hanzo's response is almost instantaneous, 'I don't know what you mean.'

 

'im sure.'

 

Jesse slides back the picture, frowning because he's sure he's seen something similar. It might be in the way that the building isn't entirely painted, parts of it just white stone while the rest is a mess of brown. He opens a search, trying to reverse the image and frowning when it pulled up windows.

 

"That isn't a window," he sighs, taking a screenshot to show Hanzo just what it pulled up for him. 'help, it's cheating!'

 

Hanzo sends back another image, likely the same storefront as the first with a sign over top in another language, 'Maybe this will help, since you can only find windows.'

 

Jesse is pretty sure that is an insult, but he ignores it as he tries the new search and gets something different.

 

"Ilios, a town atop a small island in the Aegean sea. Greece, huh," Jesse mutters tapping on the pictures to make sure that it looked right. The paint job was the same at least, though most of the buildings were blue and white compared to the brown and white that Hanzo had found. But it looked like it was from the area and there hadn't been a single other place that had come up when Jesse had looked. "Looks like I'm going to have to figure out how to get over there."

 

Jesse thinks sometimes that some of these things should be harder. Being a wanted criminal had always been more difficult, or he had always assumed as much, since Deadlock had always been careful about making sure they weren't caught. Paperwork was harder when they were connected to criminal activity. Or at least it had been for Deadlock, Jesse didn't have half as much trouble with it now.

 

"And a place to stay," Jesse mutters to himself, checking the hotels in the area and frowning harder at them when he spotted the prices. "Jesus, Shimada. We aren't all made of money."

 

He picks one and decides not to look at the price. Jesse can afford it, he's been taking jobs and his rates aren't low, however he's never thrown money around the way he's sure that others have gotten use to with how these jobs pay.

 

'be there in 2 days'

 

Hanzo sends back an acknowledgement, along with another picture of a lighthouse and a time, which meant that was were they would be meeting. That had been Hanzo's idea since he had spent several hours roaming through Dorado trying to figure out where Jesse was. It did make life easier.

 

He sighs as his communicator bings against, a message from Fareeha. It's another check up, asking him how he is or if he's been sleeping better since the last time they spoke. It might as well be an email with how long it goes on for, telling him very little about what's been happening with the rest of the people who answered the recall to Overwatch. She hints enough that he has some idea of who had come back, even if she didn't do more than that.

 

"You know," he says when Fareeha answers. "You could try calling me before sending me a three page message asking after my health."

 

"I worry about you, out there in the world without a friend in sight," she answers deadpan. "And the last time I called first, you were in the middle of an assignment, which meant that I interrupted."

 

"I wasn't going to answer if I was working. How are you?"

 

Jesse can almost imagine her rolling her eyes, "I hear you avoiding my questions about your health. Jesse, have you been sleeping? Have you taken a vacation like you promised? Have you stopped smoking yet?"

 

"You don't care if I smoke."

 

"I don't," Fareeha agrees. "But I promised Angela that I would ask. She's under some, misguided I'm sure, impression that you will one day stop smoking."

 

"I see, let me answer all of your questions in order, shall I? I've been sleeping as much as the next man and I did take my vacation, it was nice and I spent time at the beach even."

 

"The next man in question wouldn't happen to be Genji or Morrison, would it?"

 

Jesse gasps, "You compare me to a man that barely needs any sleep and a man who used to survive entirely on coffee and would only sleep when your mother knocked him out because she was tired of his 'cranky ass shit'?"

 

Fareeha snorts, "I forgot about that. She would knock him out at least once a week."

 

"She did. Do you remember how she would get Reyes?" Jesse grins because he does. It was one of his favorite memories in Blackwatch.

 

"I thought Reyes slept normally."

 

"You're wrong. Ana used to drug his coffee because when Morrison went down, Reyes would get suspicious. He would be so paranoid that no one could sneak up on him, so she would make a fresh pot of coffee and stir in some sleeping pills."

 

"Wouldn't that take down more than just Reyes?"

 

"Yes. She never felt remotely guilty and Reyes could never figure out how she got him," Jesse grins, because he has many fond memories of Blackwatch. At least before they all started dying off around him. "And he always drank the coffee."

 

"I feel like I need to tell Angela this. She's having trouble getting some of the people here to do anything and she never had mom's temperament back when this all started."

 

Jesse nods, "You can. Heard she's trickier these days, I could see her pulling off your mom's tricks. Honestly, if she puts sleeping pills into the coffee at night, she'll catch most of them. Except for the new recruits. Don't know much about them myself."

 

"You mean the war hero and the revolutionary leader? Mom would have knocked them out by now. Shrike has. She's got these darts that put people to sleep and she uses them often," Fareeha pauses. "Are you going to join us?"

 

"I told that I would, just-"

 

"It's different now. I mean, there's some of the same people but it feels different. A lot different than it was near the end. I remember you telling me how it felt, the way everyone was basically snapping at each other, how Reyes and Morrison were at each other's throats. It's nothing like that."

 

Jesse sighs, "I know. I'm," he glances out his window and sighs again because he has to give her something more than he'll come. "I'm trying to convince a friend to join us. He's warming up to the idea, I think, but it's just convincing him."

 

"We could use all the friends that we can get. With both Talon and the UN trying to stop us. Are they talented?"

 

"Well, they tried to kill me."

 

"That's not really a point in their favor, Jesse. I would prefer that you didn't end up dead while trying to convince this friend of yours to join up," Fareeha pauses. "Are they really a friend or do you just call them that that and they not correct you?"

 

"I'll have you know that they said we were friends. And it's been almost a year since they tried to kill me. We're actually friends, we hang out and everything."

 

"Color me surprised."

 

"Are you saying that I can't have friends?" Jesse demands.

 

Fareeha laughs, "No, I know you can have friends. I just wasn't expecting them to admit it."

 

"Uh-huh, I'm sure that's what you mean. How is it," he asks slowly. "Being back. I know that it can't have changed much."

 

"It's odd. There's whole sections that look exactly the same as it did the last time we were all here before the dissolution. I'll turn a corner and feel like I've walked back in time. Sometimes I expect to see Reyes or you or mom step out of a room and ask me what I'm doing."

 

Jesse winces, "I'm sorry."

 

"It's not your fault. It's just uncomfortable, you know? I would prefer it if it looked less like it did back then, but we don't really have the time, or funds, to change that," Fareeha pauses and Jesse can hear someone talking to her, but it's soft and he can't make out anything being said. "I have to go, but keep me up to date on how your seduction mission is going."

 

Jesse sputters, "It's not seduction!"

 

"Mhm, that's what they all say," Fareeha says and Jesse can almost imagine her grin. "Bye Jesse."

 

"Bye Fareeha."

 

Jesse shakes his head as he set his communicator down. Seduction, really? Fareeha had the strangest ideas about what he was doing when he tried to make friends. He glances out the window, tilting his head to the side in thought. He had another day before his flight, maybe he could figure some things out while he waited.

 

* * *

 

Hanzo knows what he's been doing. He's known for weeks now, even if he hasn't said anything to anyone, not even to himself, as he circles closer to Gibraltar and the Overwatch base that Genji had sent him information for. It's going to be his destination after he finishes here in Ilios, he knows, but he has to tell McCree before he goes.

 

"You look lost in thought, darlin'," McCree says suddenly and Hanzo would jump if he wasn't so use to this. "Sorry, was sure that you heard me coming up."

 

"I was preoccupied," Hanzo says finally, raising an eyebrow at McCree's newest outfit. "Do you ever just dress normally?"

 

"Do you ever look like you haven't stepped out of a fashion magazine?" McCree counters looking up at the lighthouse and whistling lowly. "Bet you can see for miles from the top of that. Are we goin' up?"

 

"If you would like. Have you been here before?" Hanzo asks standing up and moving away from the wall.

 

"Can't say that I have, but then again, I've been a great many places that I can't place or," He winks. "I've never really been to."

 

Hanzo shakes his head, leading the way up the stairs, moving to the side to avoid the trail of tourists that are steadily streaming out of it for lunch. It's always quieter for several hours around noon and then again later in the evening. McCree follows, making small talk about the last location he had been, but not about the job that he had told Hanzo about.

 

"But damn if that's not a view," he says leaning against the railing around the top. "It's amazin'. Bet you'd be able to hit anyone up here with that bow of yours."

 

"The lines of sight are excellent," Hanzo agrees, looking towards the dock and trying not to remember the trajectories that he had calculated when he had come up yesterday. "And if you time it for lunch or dinner, you'll be fairly lucky and not be seen."

 

"Might have noticed that," McCree agrees gesturing to the lack of people around them.

 

Hanzo hums, but doesn't add anything to his comment. Waiting for McCree to declare that he's hungry and ask if Hanzo knows anywhere good to eat. Which he should have expected, McCree seems to always be hungry when they meet up, but it makes Hanzo snort a laugh and mention something about the place that he had lunch a few days ago. He knows that McCree must notice something is off, but Hanzo doesn't know how to bring up his choice. They are friends and while Hanzo will still try to meet up with McCree after joining up with Genji and Overwatch, he can't help but remember that McCree isn't ready for that.

 

"If ya keep spacing out on me like that, I'm gonna start to worry that you're sick," McCree says finally, dropping his hand onto Hanzo's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

 

"Later," Hanzo answers. "It's nothing something to speak of in present company."

 

McCree frowns, but squeezes his shoulder and drops it. Hanzo is grateful, they don't need to start talking about Overwatch where they can be overheard. Not when Hanzo keeps hearing on the news that Overwatch has been labelled a terrorist organization for it's actions.

 

"What have you been up to," McCree asks finally. "I think you've been to Egypt recently haven't you?"

 

"I was there for a time."

 

"Know a Shrike?"

 

Hanzo frowns, "I know of a Shrike. A sniper of some kind. Wanted for a number of crimes, but I believe it was rumored that they had teamed up with Overwatch, was that not correct?"

 

"That's what Fareeha says too, but I was hoping to find out a little more. Shrike was apparently brought in by someone named Solider 76, who might be helping Winston run the show. She says that there's some things that they can't trust to people who aren't there with them."

 

"Would they have said that before?"

 

"They were more secretive before. Probably would be giving me even less, ta be honest."

 

Hanzo wonders if that's a good thing or not. Being more transparent was usually a good thing, at least he thought so, but he didn't know much about the Overwatch from before, just the details that he had picked up in the news and the few, so few, stories that McCree had decided to share.

 

"You're sure askin' a lot of questions about my old job. Thinkin' about joining up with them soon?"

 

"Yes."

 

McCree hums, but he doesn't look shocked, "I was thinking of heading that way again, since they asked me to come back." He grins and Hanzo relaxes. "We could go together. I told them that I was trying to convince a friend to join us."

 

"Do you have any other friends that would want to join them?"

 

"I don't have that many friends that aren't already members." He accepts his meal with a quiet thanks to the waitress. "Unless you have more friends that would like to come along for the ride?"

 

"No, I don't think so," Hanzo admits after a long moment of thought. "Most of my friends aren't exactly people that would join up with something like this. Why, were you hoping to bring home more than a single person?"

 

"Thought I'd ask, since ya never know. Can't just assume, ya know, that's gotten me into trouble before."

 

"Trouble? Is that why you weren't able to talk for almost three weeks?" Hanzo asks raising an eyebrow.

 

"Ah, no. I broke my charger and my communicator is an older model, took ages to track down a cord. Everywhere wanted to ship them, but none of them would get there soon enough and I can't just stop moving because I can't charge my comms."

 

"I'm sure you could, if you ever slowed down for more than a few days. I didn't know you had a travel plan."

 

"I don't, but you never know when you're going to run into someone who wants you dead, and is competent. Not all of them will rabbit and then flirt with you."

 

"I don't remember flirting with you, Jesse McCree."

 

McCree laughs, "I thought that getting you to call me by my first name would stop you from using my last name, not make you use them both."

 

"I can call you what I please, Jesse McCree," Hanzo grins when McCree rolls his eyes, but doesn't argue. "But I will argue that I wasn't flirting with you."

 

"Now that's a lie. You joke and you don't complain when I do something stupid, you laugh at me. Flirting is normal, ya know."

 

Hanzo nods, "I know that. However, I don't think that we were flirting," He pauses. "Unless you were flirting with me?"

 

"Darlin', I am always flirting with you."

 

That, Hanzo is fairly certain, is true. McCree is always acting in a way that Hanzo would label as flirting, but he had just assumed that was how he acted normally. To hear McCree state it, that he had been doing it purposely instead of just accidentally, was something new and unexpected. And not all that unwanted.

 

"Is that a joke?"

 

"You're a confusin' man, Hanzo Shimada, but I don't go 'round flirtin' with people as a joke. For a job, maybe but never for a joke. I can stop, if you don't like it?"

 

"No, I don't mind," Hanzo says finally. "If you like, I could try flirting back? I don't think I would be horribly good at it however. But I can try."

 

McCree grins, "Does that mean you like me?"

 

"I had thought that I was fairly obvious in that respect. Maybe I should have said it, since you hadn't noticed yet."

 

"Maybe you should, just so I know that you mean it. After all, a man could get the wrong impression without a confirmation."

 

Hanzo rolls his eyes, "Maybe I'll tell you that later, if you need it. But I think you were telling me about your former co-workers. What ones that you think are currently working with your organization."

 

"I would, but most of them are fairly recognizable and we are trying to stay under the radar. At least until we actually join up with them," McCree answers finishing his lunch. "Maybe you can convince me to tell you more when we go to one of our hotel rooms."

 

"Yours, don't think I know what a nice room you have."

 

* * *

 

"Think you can let us in," Jesse asks when Fareeha answers her comm, exhausted from the last assignment that they had run.

 

"Let you in?" She mutters blinking at her ceiling. "What-," she pauses. "Are you here?"

 

"Me and my friend, you should have known that I wasn't going to turn up until I could convince him to come with me," Jesse says and Fareeha knows that he's smirking. "I'm talented like that."

 

"I remember the first time you failed at asking someone to do something with you," she states forcing herself out of bed. "Remember when you fumbled asking out that guy that we met at the bar?"

 

"I was not told this story before, Jesse."

 

Fareeha thinks there's something familiar about that voice, maybe the accent, but she grins instead of focusing on that, heading to let them in, "You should have seen him, fumbling over his own words and sputtering. I think my mom video taped one of them, he was adorably flustered."

 

"I have not seen him as such, but I find myself almost jealous. You have seen me flustered before, Jesse."

 

"Thanks Fareeha, you just had ta tell him that. Damn it."

 

She laughs, "I'm hanging up on you, I'll be outside in just a few minutes."

 

"Please be quick," Jesse's friend asks politely. "I have to contact my brother when we are safely inside. He made me promise that if I ever joined with you that I would let him know."

 

There's something suspicious about that, but her mother had made her make the same promise when the recall had come out, "I will," she promises and hangs up.

 

She stares at the living room for a long moment, where her mother is, drinking her morning coffee, and wonders if she should warn him. Jesse had been there with her for the funeral, had watched her for weeks before vanishing just as the whole thing crashed and burned. She pauses at the entrance.

 

"Where is the other half of your shirt?"

 

Jesse laughs, "I told you that you could wear both sleeves, darlin'. No one is gonna make you shoot that pretty bow of yours when we first get you in." He grins at Fareeha. "You know if everyone is home?"

 

"As far as I know, we just got back from an assignment last night. Unless they slipped into town for something," she pauses. "Jess, some of the people, you know them."

 

"I already knew that, Faree."

 

"I mean, that we had people show back up that we thought were dead. I thought I should warn you before you walked in and saw one of them," Fareeha says finally. "Who is your friend?"

 

"Hanzo," the man answers. "You might know my brother, Genji."

 

Fareeha raises her eyebrow, "Didn't you-"

 

"Genji told him to join us," Jesse counters. "Besides, he tried to kill me. I think that if Genji can forgive him and I can, the rest of you lot should be able to deal with him."   
  


"Try to kill Jesse, don't you ever let me finish talking," she demands. "Are you dating him now? What have I told you about dating people that tried to kill you?"

 

Jesse grins, "You didn't. But your mom told us both never to do it, but I seem to remember a little, innocent Fareeha who-"

 

"Shut up," Fareeha hisses, glancing over her shoulder to make sure that her mother hadn't followed her to the door. "Come on, you might as well come in. There's a couple people in the main room."

 

"Don't worry," she hears Jesse whisper to Hanzo. "I'm sure you'll be fine. No one is going to kill you and Genji will be happy to see you."

 

"He's going to tease me about this, you know that, do you not?"

 

"That's what siblings are for," Fareeha hears him stop as she moves and her mother is visible. "Does no one stay dead anymore! Am I in an action movie?"

 

Her mother laughs, "It's good to see you too, Jesse. I thought you weren't coming back when you didn't answer the recall."

 

"I was too busy being stalked. Actually Hanzo, this is my mentor, Captain Ana Amari, she taught me how to be a better shot. Ana, this is Hanzo Shimada."

 

"They're dating!"

 

Jesse punches Fareeha in the arm, "I'm gonna throw you into the pool. Ya didn't have to tell ya mom."

 

"It's nice to meet you, Captain."

 

“And to meet you as well, Hanzo Shimada. Any relation to Genji?"

 

Hanzo nods, but doesn't give her anymore, which is probably a smart move. Fareeha's mother is good at getting information from people when she wants it. The best way to avoid giving her more was to say nothing. It doesn't take long for her mother to turn her attention back to Jesse.

 

"How did you meet Hanzo, Jesse?"

 

Jesse crosses his arms over his chest and frowns at her mother, "I don't know if I should tell you. You didn't tell me that you weren't dead and I think that makes us even. I don't tell you how I met Hanzo to be fair."

 

Her mother laughs, "You've gotten better at this game, haven't you?"

 

"You were the one that taught me."

 

"I did. I'm glad that you're learning then, Jesse."

 

Fareeha almost sighs in relief, letting them finish before turning to Hanzo, "Do you want me to show you where your brother is staying?"

 

"Please," Hanzo agrees and Fareeha can see the way that he glances to Jesse, but she doesn't know why. "I think it would be better to see him soon."

 

"I understand," she smiles. All of this is strange, but if Jesse is fine with all of the things going on, then she'll follow his lead. "Jesse, you coming with us?"

 

"Sure," Jesse agrees. "You better not vanish on me again, I have more questions, Captain."

 

Her mother laughs, "I'm not going anywhere, Jesse. I have joined up with Overwatch again and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

 

Jesse nods, but Fareeha can see that he's not convinced. That's fine, she isn't convinced that her mother will stay there for too long either, not with the way she and Morrison talk about things. It's worrying.

 

"He's down this way," Fareeha says leading them down the hall and pausing in front of the room that Genji had used before he had left them. "Going to knock?"

 

Hanzo shakes his head, "No."

 

* * *

  
  


"I thought you would call sooner," Genji says when he answers and Hanzo can feel his heart beating faster, the way it always does when he is given proof that his brother is still alive. "It's been a year, Hanzo."

 

"I needed time," Hanzo answers honestly, glad to have Jesse at his side. "But I am here now."

 

"Here?"

 

"At the building. I'm at the door. Should I do something specific to be allowed in?"

 

He can hear Genji moving inside the room and glances to see Jesse covering his mouth, shoulders shaking with laughter, "I'll be there to get you inside and bring you-," he pauses at the door and Hanzo smiles. "Brother?"

 

"I said I was here," Hanzo states calmly. "It was Jesse's idea."

 

"When did you meet Jesse?" Genji asks in confusion. "I am glad you are here, but I didn't know what is going on."

 

Fareeha grins, "Your brother tried to kill Jesse-"

 

"Brother."

 

"-so Jesse asked him out."

 

"Jesse, you know you aren't suppose to date people who try to kill you," Genji doesn't sound as upset about it and Hanzo doesn't know if that's because he's happy to have him here or over something else.

 

"And here I thought you wouldn't lecture me, since it got your brother here. Do you hear this darlin', we're getting lectured by everyone."

 

"How many people have you dated that tried to kill you, darling, that they feel the need to do so?"  
  


**Author's Note:**

> ya'll i have no idea what i've done, but i hope you enjoyed it?


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